


Through the Night

by mageswagger, thegirlwiththefandoms



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Amnesia, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 16:04:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3215210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mageswagger/pseuds/mageswagger, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlwiththefandoms/pseuds/thegirlwiththefandoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a tumblr askbox prompt wherein either Cassandra or Varric gets temporary amnesia</p>
<p>After a harsh battle, Cassandra wakes up in her bed with no memory of how she got there. According to her memory, she should be on her way to the Conclave with Varric in tow. Instead she wakes in an unfamiliar bed, with Varric holding her hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Written with my dear friend, thegirlwiththefandoms. This started as a chatzy-based roleplay, but I went back and edited it so it flowed like a story. They wrote Varric, Leliana, and Krem, and I wrote the Iron Bull, Cole, and Cassandra.
> 
> Epilogue will follow soon; title taken from "Through the Night" by Wakey!Wakey!

Varric sat beside Cassandra's bed. He hadn't moved since they'd made it home. She had been out for a few hours now, and Varric was beginning to really worry. The healers had said she would likely wake up soon and, until then, they wouldn't be able to fully assess her. He hadn’t been with them when it happened, but the way the Inquisitor explained was that a behemoth had caught Cassandra’s shield just right. Or just wrong, he supposed that depended on who you asked. The blast had taken her off her feet and sent her into the wall of a cliff head-first. Everyone knew how dangerous head wounds could be – hell, he’d suffered his own fair share of hard hits – but everything seemed fine so far. Now, he was just waiting for her to wake up.

Since everyone had found out about their relationship, he didn't much worry about privacy. Particularly not when she was hurt. His hand rested lightly over hers as he watched for signs of wakefulness.

Cassandra woke slowly, her head aching and her mind...confused. She didn't remember why her head hurt. Had she been injured? She didn't remember any of that. She tried to pin down her memories but they felt like smoke, and the most recent thing she could grip solidly was her trip from Kirkwall to Fereldan, to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. They were supposed to meet with Divine Justinia at the conclave. She wanted Varric to sign her book.

So why was she in a bed? Had they been attacked? She furrowed her brows as she finally opened her eyes. What she saw gave her pause.

 None of this was familiar.

And who was holding her hand? She glanced over to her bedside, her brow furrowing further when she saw Varric.

"....Varric?"

The dwarf looked up at the sound of her voice, relief flooding through him. "Hello, Lioness," he said gently. "Good to see you awake."

Her expression got more confused, if that were possible. Lioness? When had he taken to calling her that?

Slowly, she pulled her hand away from his. Perhaps he had some answers. "Where are we? What happened?"

Varric furrowed his brow at the look of confusion on her face. "We're at Skyhold. You got clocked pretty hard when a behemoth hit you into a wall. How are you feeling?"

That explained approximately nothing. Cassandra was not any less confused. In fact, she was even more confused. "Skyhold?"

Varric felt a tightening in his stomach as he looked at her. "Yes. Skyhold. The base of the Inqusition's operations."

Slowly, mindful of the aches in her body, Cassandra pushed herself up, looking at him with no trace of recognition. "The Inquisition has been disbanded for centuries," she said.

He stared at her, throat tightening. "Until you declared it open after the Breach. Don't you remember?"

Remember? What was she supposed to remember? Cassandra shook her head, which still ached. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she said frankly. She also had no idea why he was looking at her like that. Had she been wounded so badly that she worried Varric?

He was quiet for a very long time. When he did manage to speak, it was a succinct, "Oh." Inside, his heart was doing something unacceptable. "Right."

Shit was he even supposed to say? He had heard of this kind of shit, but he'd never expected... not from Cassandra. She always seemed to resilient. Too – and Maker, this was a horrible turn of phrase – hardheaded.

Cassandra, meanwhile, was still confused. Her complete lack of information left her uncomfortable. She shook her head, pressing her hand to her forehead as if she could figure things out with that alone. To no surprise, it didn't work. "Who is here?" she asked instead. "What about the Conclave?"

Varric considered for a long moment. "Maybe I should go get Leliana," he finally said. "She could probably explain this better than I can."

The familiar name had her relaxing exponentially. "So Leliana is here?" That was good news. If Leliana was here, that meant she would get some answers that she could trust. "Who else is here?"

"You asked that already."

Had she? She couldn’t remember. Cassandra blinked. "Oh." She didn't like this. At all. "Where is Leliana? I want to go speak with her." She made to get up.

Varric reached out to rest his hand on her shoulder, the touch taking her back slightly. "No. You should stay, Lio--Er, Seeker." Maker, that... sucked.

Frowning and reaching up to displace his hand, she said: "I'm not just going to sit here. I need to figure out what's going on." And why Varric, of all people, had been assigned to look after her.

His stomach was starting to churn, his throat cloasing as he tried to deal with the sick feeling slowly building inside of him. "Seeker, be reasonable. You've just taken a blow to the head hard enough that you're having possible memory issues. Isn't it reasonable that you should stay in bed?"

Cassandra didn't – or perhaps refused to – see the logic in that. "I need to figure things out," she argued. She looked around at the room and paused. "Where are we?"

Shit. She’d asked that twice. Varric shook his head. "Your room in Skyhold. Just stay here long enough for me to get Nightingale."

Cassandra pursed her lips. She didn't like that he was trying to keep her here, but she wouldn’t get anywhere arguing with him. "Fine," she snapped, settling back into her bed belligerently.

Varric shook his head before moving out into the hall. He had to pause against the wall for a long moment, taking steadying breaths. Because... if she never went back to her previous self... No. He wouldn't think about that. Instead, he went to retrieve the spymaster.

Leliana made her way into the room as quickly as she physically could without running. When she reached the door, she thought about telling Varric to wait outside. But... knowing what she knew, it didn't sit right with her. Instead, she said nothing to the dwarf as she moved into the room. The Seeker immediately looked to her. "Cassandra," she said lightly, perching on the edge of the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Confused," she said honestly. "I have no idea what is going on. Varric said something about a breach? and the Inquisition?” She shook her head. “Nothing makes any sense."

As the two spoke, Varric settled on a chair across the room, watching the women with a slightly hollow expression. This could _not_ be happening. First, there was Bianca, and though that had been different it had still ached. Hadn't he dealt with enough pain in his chest?

Leliana nodded, explaining gently: "I think, from what Varric has told me, that you've forgotten a great deal, Cass. And I worry that this will be very difficult for you to hear."

Cassandra pursed her lips. She didn't like the sound of that. "What happened?" she demanded. Anxiety settled in her gut as her mind provided an infinite list of possibilities, all of which focused on the Conclave. On the Divine. On Regalyan. "Did something happen at the Conclave?"

The Spymaster looked over to Varric before nodding. "The Conclave was attacked," she said stiffly, all business. "We lost the Divine and many others. At the site, a large green tear in the sky appeared that we called the Breach. From it, there were reported sightings of a woman falling from it. That is the Inquisitor, Evelyn Trevelyan."

Cassandra was silent for a long moment, her brain taking longer than it should have to process her words. When she did make sense of it her eyes darted back to her, sharp and demanding. "What of Regalyan?"

Varric raised a brow at that. "Who?" he asked, more to Leliana than Cassandra.

The Seeker didn't even look at Varric as she answered, her attention focused solely on Leliana's expression. "He was a representative for the mages at the Conclave," she said shortly. "We are together." Her eyes narrowed in on Leliana. "Where is he?"

Unnoticed to the others, Varric felt his stomach drop. _'We are together'._ Great. Varric's mind went to Bianca for the barest of moments. He'd thought he was past all of this shit.

Leliana swallowed hard. How did she tell Cassandra this a second time? How could she? But...keeping it from her wasn't something she could do. It wasn't something someone with a conscience could keep from Cassandra.

As Leliana slowly shook her head, Cassandra felt her stomach drop. For a moment, she couldn't breathe, and when she managed to suck in a breath it shuddered through her as if her lungs were made of paper. Makers breath, not in front of the dwarf. She didn’t want him to see her like this. Her eyes were burning, and when she spoke her voice trembled: "Oh."

In the corner, Varric was struggling with combating the overwhelming urge to gather her to his chest. A week ago he wouldn’t have had to hesitate, but now she didn’t know him – them. _Shit._ It didn’t help that would be more than a little bit fucked up since was crying over a lover she thought was recent.

He couldn't be here. This was an invasion of newly-established privacy.

The creak of the chair as he got to his feet seemed like the loudest sound in Thedas. Shaking his head, he looked at Leliana. "You seem to have a handle on this," he said, voice darker than normal but otherwise not betraying him. Apparently being a smooth talker had other positives. He needed to get drunk.

Leliana nodded, watching Varric go and expertly hiding the empathy she felt for him. She couldn't imagine having your lover forget you.

Cassandra didn't notice him leave. She was trying to keep herself from crying, but as the door closed a hiccup escaped, and with it her walls came tumbling down. She pressed her hands to her face, hiding it as she struggled not to cry and inadvertently only made herself cry even harder.

Had she cried the first time she learned that Regalyan had-?

She pushed the thought aside. She didn't want to think about it.

Respectfully, Leliana waited, offering silent support to her friend, even as she felt her throat tighten in empathy, but she certainly couldn't cry. Cassandra was a strong woman. She wouldn't want to be coddled.

Cassandra struggled to stop crying, inhaling jagged breaths as she wiped at her eyes. "This is ridiculous," she said, desperate to stop the tears. "I - if that happened, we must be doing something. There are things I should be doing to help."

Instead of offering platitudes, Leliana just nodded. "We reopened the Inquisition. We have made great strides in combating the cause of the Breach, which is currently closed. There is a darkspawn who thinks himself fit to replace the Maker, Corypheus." She reached out to squeeze her friend's shoulder. "You have already done a great deal. You need time to rest."

Even now, some of the information was already starting to slip away. Cassandra gripped onto the knowledge as tightly as she could. "I can't rest," she protested as she shook her head. "I can't just sit in my bed while..."

What was his name? She couldn’t remember. She growled in frustration, holding her hand to her head. "What did you say his name was?"

Leliana sighed. "Corypheus," she said. "And if you want to get up, you'll need to meet the Inquisitor again."

Cassandra nodded immediately, pushing away from her bed and standing. She felt better doing that.

Belatedly, she realized she had no idea how her room was organized. She clenched her jaw, irritation taking hold faster than she would have liked. "Where do I keep my armor?"

The Spymaster nodded to the trunk at the foot of her bed. "It's there. But you don't need to leave the room, Cass. I could fetch her."

Cassandra shook her head immediately. "No. I don't want to sit in here any longer." She needed to move, to get her mind off of - things.

Getting to her feet, Leliana surveyed the other woman. "I see your injury did nothing to temper your stubbornness," she observed.

"I don't have the luxury of sitting back and waiting for this to end," she said, running her hands through her hair carefully as she moved to her trunk and began pulling out a familiar outfit.

_If it did end._ But Leliana didn't say that out loud. She didn't want to think of how the Inquisition would be affected if it lost Cassandra.

_…_

Cole could feel Varric's emotions even before he made it to the tavern; his and Cassandra's were some of the loudest in the holds, both for reasons that were similar and different all at once. He hadn’t approached Varric immediately, unsure if his presence would do any real help. He sat back and watched the dwarf drink, but when the drinks surpassed his usual amount his concern deepened.

Varric stared blankly at the tankard of ale in his hand. He shouldn't be reacting this way. The logical part of him knew it wasn't fair. Cassandra was sick. She didn't even realize what was going on. It didn't stop his heart from twisting and pulling uncomfortably. He knew that thinking that there was no chance to get hurt when they could all die at any time was stupid, but dying was better than being forgotten, as shit as that mindset was.

Maker, the image of her crying and him unable to comfort her. Unwelcome, moreover.

After a while he approached the dwarf, taking a seat beside him at the bar and twisting his hands together. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

He took another chug of ale. "Hey, Kid," he greeted.

There were so many things he could say. Cole frowned, hesitating. He wasn't sure which was best. "She remembers more than she did before," he said tentatively. "She remembers the Breach. It's slow, but the images are forming. She's getting better."

Varric looked at Cole, raising a brow. "Yeah?" he asked. His voice was hopeful. It meant that she could remember all of it. There were some who never remembered, and that had been his fear, that he'd lost her just after getting her back,

That strain of hope was good. Cole nodded. "It isn't perfect," he said. "But she's trying. The more she remembers, the more she feels. She can't agree with herself and it hurts." He hesitated. "She misses you. Even if she doesn't realize it. _There’s something missing, something I know. Why can’t I remember?_ "

The reminder of what Cassandra must be going through made his heart ache even more. Varric sighed. "Sorry for all the emotions we make you deal with," he said. "I can't imagine what's it's like to live in everyone's head."

Cole shook his head. "If I didn't feel, then I couldn't help. I want to help."

Varric managed a grin at that, feeling his thoughts going a little fuzzy. "You can start by taking this away from me," he said, passing his drink to Cole.

The spirit took the tankard, pulling it away from Varric. "You should rest," he said softly.

Varric nodded. "Thanks, Kid," he said. "But I should probably go see if she needs me. I hold my liquor better than most."

"She might say things," Cole cautioned, watching Varric with concern. "But they aren't from her. Underneath it she still feels. But without the words, it's hard to understand."

Varric took that to heart and reached out to squeeze Cole's shoulder. "Thank you for helping me," he said.

Cole smiled, pleased he could offer something. Hopefully it was enough. "You're my friend," he said with a resolute nod. "Friends help."

Varric gave a slight smile at that. "Yes. Yes they do." With that, he got to his feet, steadying himself slightly before making his way out of the tavern. He had to find Cassandra.

…

Varric had gone to the kitchens for tea. He doubted Cassandra needed ale. Besides, tea was calming. Cole had said she was frustrated. Or hurting. He didn't like the thought of either on her, not unless it was him frustrating her, and that was always playful. If she was in any sort of distress, he wanted to help.

So with a tray of tea that he knocked on her door--it was odd to find her here instead of above the quartermaster, but little things were bound to change.

Cassandra had gone to Cullen and asked for as many field reports as he had. He'd put up a fair fight, but eventually gave in. She was trying to familiarize herself with the Inquisitions forces again, and though every word she read sounded familiar she would find them slipping away again moments later. Some reports she had to read several times over. The knock at the door was a welcome distraction. "Come in."

Balancing the tray on his palm carefully, Varric opened the door and moved into the room. "Hello, Seeker," he greeted. "I thought I might find you poring over your work. No surprise there."

Cassandra blinked at him. She hadn't expected him to visit her again, or for him to bring her anything. It was appreciated though – and some how she got the notion this wasn’t entirely unusual. "Regardless of what happened, the Inquisition is still moving forward," she said. "I can't let this stop me."

Varric chuckled. "I should have known you say something like that. You never relax, Seeker." As he said this last, his eyes lifted to study her face, wondering if she might recall a conversation that had prefaced their first kiss the night she'd finished Swords and Shields:

_"You act as if I would have done anything."_

_"Given what you do for the sake of 'duty', I had no idea. It's not as if you're exactly relaxed. Ever."_

_"I do too know how to relax!"_

_"Even when we danced in Orlais, I thought you were going to break off my fingers."_

The Seeker hesitated at that, looking at him closely. The words sounded familiar. "I get the feeling that isn't the first time you've told me that," she said wryly.

Varric felt his heart stutter as he shook his head, moving to place the tray on the table beside her. "It isn't," he said evasively, not wanting overwhelm her by gushing over nothing. Varric Tethras didn't gush.

Watching him made her feel like she was missing something entirely. Perhaps because she was. She shook her head, looking to the tray. "Thank you. You didn't have to bring me anything."

Varric shrugged. "Sure I did," he said simply, moving to perch on the edge of her bed without thinking about it, really. It was ingrained habit.

Though her brow arched as he sat, she said nothing and instead looked back to her tea. She didn't drink it just yet. "I wanted to apologize for earlier."

"No need," he said. "For a woman who got clocked on the head, it could have gone much worse."

It could have, but this didn't feel like a particularly happy alternative, regardless. Cassandra shook her head. "I still don't remember much," she admitted. "But I remember you choosing to stay. Did I ever thank you for that?"

Varric looked at her. "You probably meant to," he said simply, grinning.

Cassandra sighed. "Of course." She pulled her tea closer. "Thank you for helping." She took a sip, relaxing slightly as she did. She was still tense, but the tea did help some. And she was grateful for that.

"Any time, Seeker. We're all one big crew here. We have to look after our own." He watched her, wanting to tell her the truth, but knowing that it would probably just mess with her. Particularly if she was only up to when they had been in Haven.

Cassandra zoned out for a moment, staring down at her files, trying to remember what she had been thinking and failing entirely. She shook her head, setting her tea down and rubbing at her eyes. "I'm sorry. It's hard for me to focus."

Concern wrapped around his throat, and he pushed it aside as he  shook his head. "It's all right," he said, taking up the mug of tea to sip. "Take your time. I'll be here."

Cassandra looked at him for a long moment, considering. "You were by me when I woke up," she said. "Are we friends?"

Evasively raising a shoulder, he answered: "Well, _friends_ is relative, isn't it? You're a fan of my book. I couldn't just risk one of Swords and Shields' few fans. It's unsuccessful as it is."

The mention of her favorite serial had her eyes widening exponentially "You _know_?" She asked, horrified. "Who told you? Did _I_ tell you?"

He laughed full out at that. "In a manner of speaking. You asked the Inquisitor to ask me to finish the next chapter for you. You have the only copy."

Cassandra blinked rapidly that that. "You mean there's a new chapter?" she asked. She immediately turned in her seat, inspecting her bookshelf. "Where do I keep it?"

Varric snorted, nodding to nightstand pointedly. The book sat there in all its innocence; she must have read it a lot if she kept it so close at hand. Which meant that it was good. "I could read it to you?" he offered. "Hear it from the horse's mouth, you know?"

The offer caught her off guard, but she could acknowledge that reading the files had been difficult as it was. She probably didn’t need to read the novel on her own. She nodded after a moments pause. "I would appreciate that," she agreed. "Thank you. Again."

Varric nodded. "It the least I can do, Li--Seeker." He took up the book, trying to pretend he didn’t slip up and call her Lioness again. It was more difficult than he anticipated. "Feel free to get comfortable. I'm willing to bet that you won't let me stop once I start. And your copy of the Tale of the Champion remembers the last time I tried to stall in telling you a story."

She didn’t seem to notice his near slip up. She laughed under her breath. "I promise not to stab the book this time," she said. She stood, taking the chest plate of her casual wear off and setting it aside before moving to the bed. This was strange to her, but obviously not quite so to Varric. How close of a friendship did they have?

After getting situated she braced herself against her pillows, bringing her knees to her chest and watching him expectantly. Varric opened the book, glancing at her and wondering if this wasn't too weird for her. She hadn't objected yet, though. So he began reading, his voice clear and even, even if his stomach hurt at the idea of being so close to her and being unable to hold like he was accustomed to. His heart ached for the closeness they usually shared behind closed doors. Maker. He paused, swallowing, before forging ahead.

As he read, Cassandra listened, soaking the information in as best as she could. Everything he said sounded familiar, almost like a weaker version of déjà vu, but even as closely as she listened, she had to ask him to pause. "Can you reread the last few pages?" she requested, a bit hesitantly. "I'm listening, but sometimes it doesn't stick."

Varric looked up from the book, meeting her gaze. The request worried him, but he gave a grin anyway. "Of course."

Cassandra relaxed when he didn't make a fuss about it. "Thank you," she said.

He flipped back a few and started again. However, he became just a little smug as he got to the first sex scene. Maker, this book was a piece of shit. He had written this? "As his lips moved over her milky thigh, her head tipped back..."

Cassandra felt her cheeks flare up slightly at that and she hid part of her face behind her pillow. She'd forgotten some of the more... _smutty_...aspects of his books. And now she was caught between wanting him to continue and just letting her bed swallow her whole. He kept going before his eyes darted to look at Cassandra. Varric 's face became very smug. "Are you all right, Seeker? We're both adults here, aren't we?"

Scowling slightly she reminded him: "Yes, but that typically doesn't include reading smut to each other.”

Varric rolled his eyes. "I wrote it. You don't think I know what you've read?"

Cassandra huffed. "Just keep reading," she said. "I want to know what happens."

Grinning, he went back to the book. When the Guard Captain's lover ended up with his head between her knees, however, he felt even his own stomach tightening for very different reasons, and it certainly wasn't from the masterfully written porn. It was merely the knowledge of who was beside him. Of how often he had done just what the book was describing to Cassandra.

Maker, this was awkward now.

Unawares, Cassandra continued to listened quietly, more focused on her own reactions than his. He was certainly good at telling a story - on paper and out loud - and though her body reacted slightly she didn't think twice on why. She simply assumed it was the text entirely.

Meanwhile, Varric had to swallowed several times and let his mind wander to Bartrand in women's underwear to get himself under control. _Just get through it._ Why was this scene so long? It like torture. No sex scene of his would ever be this long again.

Finally he finished the scene, and the chapter, before giving a long exhale. "Maker, this is enough to make me never want to write again," he teased.

Cassandra looked up sharply at him. "You wouldn't," she said. "Unless this happens to be the last book in the series."

Determined not to give anything away, Varric just raised a shoulder. "I guess we'll find out."

He moved on to the next chapter.

Hours must have passed as he read to her, backtracking when she needed and forging ahead when she was with him. As they reached the last few pages, however, he knew what was coming. Part of him wondered if she'd react the same way. If he'd have her in his lap again. He didn't want to hope for that.

"As the young woman stood triumphant in the courtyard, a black figure emerged. This wasn't over."

With that, he closed the book.

There was a pause.

Then she threw her pillow at him.

"You did that to spite me!" she protested. "Another cliffhanger?"

Varric was struck in the face with the pillow as he gave a smug laugh, handing it back to her. "What? You didn't like it?"

Cassandra huffed. "It was a fine book," she said. "But now I have to wait until the next. Please tell me you're continuing it."

"I've been working on it since the night you finished this one," he said, grinning.

That, at least, helped her relax slightly. "Thank you," she said. "For continuing. And for reading it to me. And for...everything."

Varric nodded, grin dying as he looked at her. "Anything you need, Seeker," he said, knowing that he was probably getting a little too tender for her but unable to stop himself.

Cassandra knew she was missing something. She could feel it just on the edge of her memory - the same way everything seemed to be a faint deja vu. She just didn't know what. She shook her head. Thinking too deeply on it gave her a headache. "It's late," she said. "I should probably rest. The healers said sleep can help me remember things."

Varric was up the moment she had finished her thought, setting the book down. "Of course," he said. So it was not at all going to go like he'd hoped. His heart was back to aching. He'd need to be alone after this. "I'll probably come by tomorrow," he told her. "Good night, Cassandra."

She noted the use of her name. It made her swallow. "Good night, Varric. And thank you."

"You're welcome, Lioness," he murmured, barely audible, before leaving the room. As he closed the door, he dropped his face into his hands before rubbing them over his tired eyes with a long sigh.

…  
Cassandra woke up still exhausted, but with one very good development: she remembered. Not everything, of course, but she remembered more than she had the day before. While she slept, her brain must have taken to trying to figure out the gaps in her memory. She didn’t know the medical reasoning for that, but she assumed it was because she wasn’t focusing on quite so much, so her body could focus on healing itself.

When she woke she knew about Haven, about the people who joined and worked for the Inquisition, about Red Lyrium and Red Templars and Corypheus and everything they were fighting for. That in part made her feel better. However, along with these things she remembered arriving at Skyhold, and Varric revealing that he knew where Hawke was the whole time.

At first she was angry, though she remembered their fight and that they had come to an accord. She knew she must have forgiven him, because she didn't feel betrayed, but the knowledge was there and it was new to her, and she couldn't brush it aside as if she had always known. She dressed, mindful of her still-tender head, and set path towards the entrance of the fortress. Varric was there, as she remembered him to be, and she moved towards him. "I remembered some things while I slept," she said without preface.

Varric looked up. He, on the other hand, hadn't gotten much sleep that night, and so had instead decided to write Hawke. If he looked tired, then it was thanks to scant hours. Now, as Cassandra spoke, hope read all over his face. "Oh yeah?" he asked her with a little too much exuberance before he remember to temper himself.

Cassandra noticed his expression and raised a brow. "Yes," she said. "I don't know how long ago this was. But I remember reaching Skyhold. I remember Hawke. And I remember trying to punch you."

With that his face closed off as he sat back in the chair, folding his hands over his chest. "Yes," he said simply. "What about it?"

Cassandra didn't know why his reaction changed so suddenly. Had she remembered something wrong? Or perhaps she hadn’t remembered enough. She wasn’t certain.

She was silent for a moment. "I'm trying not to be angry," she said honestly. "Because I'm not. But it is difficult to not feel...disappointed?" She shook her head, running her hand over her face as she sighed. "I don't know what I feel." She didn't even know why she was here.

Varric studied her before schooling his face into a smirk. "Do you want to try to punch me again?" he asked.

Huffling slightly, she said: "No. But I might, if you keep smirking like that."

He raised a shoulder into a shrug. "Have you ever considered that this is just my face?" he taunted.

"Considering I don't always want to punch you, I think it's safe to say that isn't the case,” she retorted wryly, brow raised.

Varric grinned at that. "I suppose I should be flattered by that," he replied before getting out of his chair. "Now, is there anything I can do for you?" he asked. "Something to make you more comfortable or jog your memory?"

Giving a forlorn sigh, Cassandra shook her head. "If I knew how to do that, I would be doing it. But I did want to thank you. You have been very patient with me. Probably more than I deserve."

Varric reached up to pat her lower back. "Can't really hold being sick against you," he answered simply.

Cassandra offered him a tired smile. She wasn't sure what had changed between them during the time she couldn't remember. It was obvious something had, though, if she kept approaching him even when she had only straw reasons to do so. She didn't fully understand it. She could only hope that her memories continued to return.

Finally she sighed. "I should go visit the healer," she murmured. "Let them know how I'm doing. I worry otherwise someone might just drag me there."

"Do you want me to go with you?" he offered simply.

Cassandra paused when her immediate response was yes. She nodded slowly, still caught trying to figure out why the answer came so easily. "Yes. I think I do."

Varric nodded. He would stay beside her for as long as she'd have him there. Regardless of how it hurt him to just pretend that they were only friends, he wasn't about to abandon her.

…  
After her trip to the healer Cassandra found herself set up at a table in the tavern with Varric, though she wasn't drinking anything. The healer had said that the fact that she hadn't remembered everything yet was concerning, but the fact that she was remembering at all showed promise. At the rate she was going, she should remember everything - or most everything - at the end of the week. That was in an ideal world, of course.

The healer had gone on to talk about recovery, but Cassandra hadn't understood the majority of what she was talking about. Only that there were some things she might never remember, that she might need to be told things several times, that there might be permanent changes in her personality...after that Cassandra had opted to leave. She didn't want to hear about all the things she had to deal with when she was better when she was still barely half-healed. To take her mind off of the healers words, they'd gone to the tavern, and Cassandra occupied herself with trying to place names to faces.

Varric had felt sick leaving the healer, hating that Cassandra had to hear the things she might have to deal with. The idea that she might never remember some things had made him want to die, because what if he was one of those things? Regardless, he had to rationalize that he might not be, and even if he was, he cared about her too much to give up. So he sat with her at the bar, sipping at the tankard of ale in front of him. He'd had way more lately than usual, but he was managing it. Even if it was the way Broody used to.

"The bard," she said, nodding towards the singing woman. "Her name is...Maryden? I think?"

He nodded. "Yes. Her songs will get stuck in your head for days."

On the other side of the tavern, Iron Bull was debating whether or not to approach the duo. He had noticed when Cassandra and Varric entered the tavern, each looking a little less than happy. He could only imagine why. Still, they were his friends, and he hadn't properly spoken to either of them since Evelyn and Leliana broke the news to everyone. So he stood, motioning for Krem to come with him as he headed towards their table. Krem noticed Iron Bull's beckoning signal and got up from the chair where he usually sat to make his way over to the table where Varric sat with Cassandra. Knowing what he knew about them, he couldn't imagine that this was easy. For Varric, especially. Now, he was partially concerned about what Bull might want with them. The chief always meant well, but he sometimes didn't think before he spoke.

Cassandra glanced up as Bull and Krem approached, two faces she was slightly more familiar with (though her mind struggled slightly with placing Krem's name).

"Haven't seen you in here for a while, Seeker. Feeling any better?" Bull asked curiously as he approached.

"Hey there," Krem greeted, studying the pair. Regardless of Varric's efforts to hide it, Krem could see that he hadn't been wrong about it being a struggle. The Seeker just looked... frustrated.

"I could be feeling worse," she said reasonably. "But my head is less tender, and I'm starting to remember. That is better than nothing."

Varric nodded, looking at Bull and Krem meaningfully. "She's still forgetting some things. But it's coming back. The healer seemed to have mixed hopes."

Iron Bull missed Varric's look entirely. "You'll power through this," he said with an optimistic nod. Cassandra was a strong woman. "Looks like some things don't change regardless, though."

Krem, on the other hand, did catch Varric’s look and had to resist the urge to elbow Bull. It was possible he could be talking about something else, and if not... he was certainly going to try to steer him in another direction. "Yeah," he agreed. "You're still as stern as ever, Seeker," he teased.

Cassandra sent Bull a slightly confused expression before looking to Krem. "I don't know if I should be pleased with that or not."

Meanwhile, Varric would cheerfully drug Bull's ale if he kept on the vein that Varric thought he was on, if only because punching him in the face might bring him some kind of sick enjoyment. "That she is," he said to Krem. "And just as much of a workaholic."

"So long as you two are taking it easy," Bull said. "No need to overexert yourself. Am I right?"

Krem let his leg fly now, kicking Bull hard in the shin as he took a sip of his wine and then nodded. Iron Bull toppled only slightly as Krem's leg connected, covering it up with a laugh as he realized a minute to late that he shouldn't be talking about certain things. Krem continued seamlessly: "Right. I'm sure that the Inquisitor's keeping you out of her forward teams."

Cassandra furrowed her brow at Bull. "I - I'm sorry?" What was she missing here? Were they talking about the same thing?

Varric shook his head. "Bull's been drinking, Seeker. He barely remembers how to speak half the time."

"Yeah - that's what I meant. The going out and working. Normally you're just...training...all the time." Bull rubbed the back of his head.

Krem nodded, setting down his drink. "You really do need to drink less, chief," he said. "Next thing you know, you're going to be leaping off the battlements."

Or thrown, if the glare Varric was giving him said anything.

Cassandra shook her head, and didn't bother dwelling on it. "I would be training, if I wasn't specifically asked not to," she said. "The healer says that my motor skills seem fine for now, but would rather leave the testing until I'm healed more."

Varric nodded at that. "She can hit you with a stick later, Iron Bull," he said, relieved that Cassandra seemed content to drop t, even if the exchange had just reminded him of how pathetic he was.

But Iron Bull could read between the lines there. Motor skills meant fighting – namely, whether or not she could. If he'd been told he might not be able to fight again...he wasn't sure what he'd do. "Things'll work out," he said with a confident nod. Whether they worked out good or bad, he couldn't say, but he didn't verbalize as much. He did know some things about offering comfort, even if he wasn't the best at it.

Krem nodded at that, lifting his bottle again. He couldn't imagine that a warrior like Cassandra would be handling the knowledge that she might never be able to fight again well. He didn't think he would handle it half as well as she was, though.

Cassandra nodded once, accepting his words even if she wasn't sure she had faith in them. She glanced to Varric. "I think I'm going to lay down," she said. "It's been a long day."

Varric set down his ale, moving to get to his feet. "I'll walk you," he said.

Iron Bull stepped back from the table. "See you around, Seeker," he said. "And if you ever need to beat someone up, just give me a shout." He grinned teasingly.

Krem gave her a grin. "It can be really therapeutic," he agreed. As their backs turned, he looked at Bull with a sigh. The qunari at least had the decency to look a little bashful.

…

 

 

Cassandra had slightly expected the new influx of memories as she slept. Overall, regaining memories was an odd sensation. Like she was constantly looking for a word - something she knew she knew - and when she finally found it there was a burst of satisfaction. With memories, it was like filling in blank spaces of a word puzzle, but if she already knew what the end result was. She felt things that didn't feel in line with what she remembered, and each thing that came back made more and more sense.

The one thing that had been puzzling her the most was her attachment to Varric. She didn't consciously seek him out, but somehow she kept finding herself around him. She had assumed that they had become friends, based on how he treated her, but when she woke up on the third day she realized...whatever they had didn't stop with friendship.

She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

It felt right - the conflicting feelings she'd been battling on and off stopped confusing her - and she knew she was remembering correctly. Regardless, she had questions. How long had they been together? Were they still together? She knew there was more she should know, but she didn't, and it left her with a headache.

Finally she forced herself to move from her room, setting course to the hold and spotting Varric quickly. She moved towards him. "Varric?"

Varric was just coming out of the stairwell up to the library, several books in hand, when he caught sight of Cassandra. Something was wrong. Or seemed like it was. Had she remembered something bad? Forgotten something she had known before? He set the books down on the table. "What wrong?"

She shook her head. "No, nothing is wrong," she said quickly. She hadn't meant to worry him. If anything, she was more worried for him. "Can we talk?"

Something was going on. Varric nodded, watching her. He knew her now. He wondered if... "Of course."

Cassandra nodded, stepping back slightly. "Preferably somewhere private," she added. "I'm not sure where would be best."

Varric considered. "Your room, my room, the spot above the quartermaster, we can throw Cole out of the tavern for a bit, break into the War Room. The new mage's tower the Inquisitor built."

Though she let him finish, Cassandra knew what she wanted to say before he finished listing things. Partially because that was where it had happened before, partially because it was an almost instinctive response for her. Outside of her room, that was where she was most often. She nodded. "To the Quartermasters, then," she said.

Varric nodded, gesturing that she should lead the way. Cassandra did as much, turning and setting their path. She wasn't sure how to broach the topic, though she had done it before, and it felt strange knowing she'd done it before when it didn't entirely feel like she had. They reached the Quartermasters and she leaned against the desk that waited there, much like before.

Varric watched her as she seemed to try to gather herself and it made his heart tighten. If she _had_ remembered him and was acting this way... perhaps it wasn't something she wanted to remember. And the idea of it was a lot to handle, to say the least. If she remembered and didn't want to be with him anymore-- Maker. He felt like vomiting, but he doubted she'd thank him for doing that. Instead, he just waited.

She ran her fingers through her hair, mindful for the bump that still ached, and looked at him. "I remembered more last night," she began.

He nodded. "I figured," he returned. "What did you remember?"

Sighing slightly, she said: "I remember finishing Swords and Shields, the first time. And I remember going to talk to you in the tavern and making a complete fool of myself." She smiled slightly. "And I remember kissing you. Several times. And I wish that I remembered more." She looked to him then. "Are we together?"

The smile was at least slightly reassuring. As she spoke, he had gathered his thoughts, so that when she asked him the inevitable question, he could reply without much delay. "We were," he said. "But that doesn't mean we have to be anymore."

Varric Tethras was a lot of things, including selfish when he wanted to be, but he cared about Cassandra. He cared about her so much that he would let her go if that was what she wanted. He understood now more than ever how pathetic it was to cling to things that didn't work out.

Cassandra looked at him for a long moment, slightly taken aback by his answer. The way he had been treating her made more sense now, and she understood that she was still missing a large chunk of their relationship, and she wasn't sure what she wanted. She just knew that, even now with gaps in her memory, she felt happy with him. Despite the fact that he could have easily told her anything he wanted, he hadn't; he had waited for her to remember. Regardless of anything else, that meant something.

"Do you still want to be together?" she asked. "I - Varric, so much has happened. And I'm not sure if I'll ever be back to myself. I don't even know if I can fight again - I can't remember things I've known all my life - and I don't want you to feel like you're obligated to stay with me because of what we have."

Varric shook his head, holding out his hands. "No no, Seeker. You can't put it on me. It's up to you." Of course he still wanted to be with her. He had finally left Bianca fully for her, he was beginning to heal because of her. It sucked that she still didn't know what she meant to him. He wondered if even fully lucid Cassandra had known. "And if you aren't sure yet, well, take your time. I owe you that at the very least." After all, she had given him the time he'd needed after Bianca.

Cassandra felt her eyes burning - and she had never been prone to tears, but they seemed to happen more often now. She nodded. "We can go slow," she said softly. "At least while I'm remembering."

She hated asking him to slow down - their relationship had months of context that she felt, but couldn't recall, and she knew that slowing wasn't going to be easy, but she needed time to sort out what was coming in and out of her head.

Seeing her eyes go misty, he stepped forward and caught her hand, running his fingers over her palm. "As slow as you want, Lioness," he said softly before pressing his lips to the delicate skin of her wrist. Very few parts of her were delicate, but he knew them all.

It was strange, being with him like this, but it also felt natural. That was what mattered most to her. She held his hand, savoring the lingering heat against her wrist. "Why do you call me Lioness?" she asked softly, watching him.

He knew why, but he didn't know if he could articulate it again. "There's a poem," he said evasively. Maker, what good was his way with words when he never seemed to have them with her?

Cassandra raised a brow. He'd written her a poem? She hadn't expected that, but it sounded right. She would admit, she hadn't gone extensively through her belongings, so it was plausible she had over looked it. "I'll have to find it," she resolved.

Varric shrugged, "If you want to. I don't remember it."

He didn't know why he was lying to her. Perhaps he just wasn't ready until she remembered all of it? Or maybe he was afraid of taking the final leap in discussing their emotions. _His_ emotions.

She watched him for a long moment, not sure what to say. All she knew was that she didn't want to not be near him. She didn't know if that was selfish or not. "Can we just lie down?" she asked. "I know I just woke up, but I'm tired again. And I would rather not be alone."

Swallowing thickly, he nodded. He missed holding her at night and, if he was entirely honest, he was growing more and more exhausted every day. "Anything you want," he told her softly, letting go of her hand.

Cassandra nodded. "Thank you," she said. "I think my room is closer?" She pushed away from the desk before another thought hit her, and she looked at him. "From what I remember, we agreed to keep things private," she said. "But Iron Bull acted as if he knew. Do they know? About us?"

Varric chuckled at that, running a hand over his hair. "We did a good job of that until I got hit pretty hard in a fight. I don't really remember it, given that I was passed out. But they knew after that."

Cassandra raised a brow. "So we both have a habit of taking hard hits in fights," she said wryly. "I should keep that in mind."

Rolling his eyes, he said: "It's not a habit. It just happened." He shook his head, moving up the stairs and toward her room. It had really become _their_ room after all of this, but for now it was back to hers.

She trailed after him, quiet as they reached her room. She was still trying to think, even though she knew she needed to stop and breathe for a moment. She couldn't force the memories - they trickled back in gradually, bit and pieces at a time; faster when she slept, but still slow. She hoped that with Varric there, she could at least keep her thoughts a little calmer. She closed the door behind them and unsnapped her chestplate, setting it aside as she toed off her boots.

Varric moved to take off his shirt, but paused halfway through. Lately, she had liked to wear it while they slept, which he had certainly had no complaints about. Now, though, he didn't want to be too familiar. Particularly when she'd asked to go slowly. Therefore, he rethought the action, turning instead to undo his boots.

Cassandra didn't notice his move, instead focusing on switching into a less heavy tunic than the one she wore under her chestplate, and swapping her pants for thinner leggings. She wasn't self conscious of him seeing her - in fact, she'd hardly even considered it before she changed. Once done she turned and moved to her bed, situating herself as Varric set his boots aside and moved to join her. His body slid in against hers easily as it always had, and he reflexively gathered her to his chest, pressing his nose into her hair.

This was familiar. This was something she had done before, whether she could remember it or not. Though her mind thought this was the first time they'd ever done this, it felt familiar - natural - and she knew it wasn't.

Cassandra wrapped her arms around him, relaxing against him with ease. Her fingers twisted in his shirt as she pressed her face to his neck, relishing the contact. Her mind slowed slightly, and her anxieties faded as she allowed herself to focus solely on this. "Thank you," she murmured. "For staying with me."

Varric shook his head. "No. Thank you."

It was all he would say on the matter, the feel of her heart against his skin enough.

…

Cassandra spent the day after their nap mostly with Varric, but otherwise secluded. Being around everyone was stressful. Varric made things easier, but the others were just waiting. Waiting for her to remember, no doubt, but that wasn't something she had control over. She had asked Varric to spend the night with her - just holding her. And as it happened every night, her mind provided memories and pieced things together for her.

With those memories came Bianca. That left a sour feeling in her stomach. But her memories didn't just cut off there - they continued, through the break she and Varric had taken, to the accident he spoke of when the others had realized what she and Varric had, and to Varric finally opening back up. She assumed, from there, their relationship was steady. Those memories didn't feel quite so old to her. She was silent for a long while even after she woke, considering everything she remembered and combating the mix of anger and hurt that came with them. She wasn't angry - not really - but it was hard to separate that emotion from those memories. "Varric?" she asked. "Are you awake?"

Varric had fallen asleep easily for the first time in a while, as everything was more or less back to the normal he had come to expected. Holding her certainly helped things. Now, as he came to thanks to her voice, he felt much more rested than he had before. "I am now. What's on your mind, Lioness?"

Cassandra hesitated, trying to figure out the best way to broach the topic. She didn’t want to barrel forward without a thought.

"I remember Bianca."

_Oh_. Well. That worked too, she supposed. Maker, she hadn't meant to just blurt that out. Varric stiffened against her, inhaling slowly, and she was quick to clarify: "And after, of course. I remember clearing out the Quarries at the Emprise du Lion. But - do you mind if we talk about that?"

As she explained he relaxed again. "No," he said. "What do you need to know?"

Cassandra sighed slightly. "Can you explain it?" She asked. "I know the basics. I know what happened in Valammar, but the conversations - they're fuzzy. And I'm trying to understand, but I can't on my own." A hint of frustration made its way into her tone. She hated that she couldn't remember things clearly. She hated that she needed to ask at all.

Varric sighed. He would do it for her, of course, but he didn't really want to talk about Bianca. He had Cassandra now, but Bianca had been an enormous part of him for quite some time. It was still sore.

"After Valammar, I spoke to Bianca," he said. "We... parted ways. Possibly for good. Maybe not. I can never be sure with her. The point of it, though, was me letting her go. But afterwards..." He considered his words. "Bianca was a good majority of my life. I needed time and you gave it to me."

She listened closely, taking what he said in, and she wondered if she had been entirely fair with him. She hesitated only for a moment before asking: "Did I ever tell you about Regalyan?"

Varric looked at her carefully. "You didn't. But you don't have to feel obligated to."

Cassandra shook her head. "No. I should have told you. I don't know why I did not." She was silent for a moment, considering how to explain. "We met when we were young. He is the one who helped me fight the High Dragon that led to my being named the Hero of Orlais. We were together up until the attack on the Conclave."

He nodded carefully. He'd known about the High Dragon, of course. It was quite the tale.

The Seeker continued: "I was angry after the Conclave. Not just because of what happened to the Divine. It is part of the reason I was so upset when I realized you were hiding Hawke. I kept putting the blame on myself, even though I had nothing to do with what happened. He was the first man I ever loved, and I-" She sighed, cutting herself off. "That isn't the point. The point is - I'm sorry that I was angry with you for not telling me about Bianca. Because I should have told you about Galyan."

Shaking his head he moved to trace her cheek with his thumb. "You don't have to apologize, Lioness," he told her. "Not to me."

Cassandra shook her head right back, looking at him. "I've been unfair," she said. "I hold you to a standard that I don't hold myself to. And I shouldn't."

Varric looked at her. "The crazy thing about emotion," he told her, "is that it's very rarely rational."

Though she knew he was right, it didn't stop her from wishing it weren't true. "Thank you for being so patient with me," she said. "I remember most everything - I think. It's just small things that escape me. And I'm sorry that I put you through this."

Varric shook his head again. "Stop," he said to her, holding out his hand. "You were hurt." Even as he said it, he knew his heart was just a little bit less soft than it had been. His mind was protecting him from hurt, should she forget again. The rational side of him hated it, but there was hardly anything he could do.

Cassandra frowned. "And I hurt you," she said. "Even if on accident."

Varric just shrugged. "You win some you lose some," he said back.

Again, she knew he was right, but that didn't make her feel any less guilty. "At least I remembered us," she said softly. She didn't want to think about what things could have been if she hadn't.

Varric nodded. "I wondered if you would," he admitted. "If you hadn't, well, that would have been awkward." He tried to make light of it, but the joke fell just a little flat. It might have irrevocably fucked him up, actually. But he wouldn't say that.

Cassandra slipped her arm around him, pressing close again. She wanted to say something about how she couldn't forget him, that he was too much a part of her (or something equally romantic), but she knew that wasn't true. She knew she could have forgotten everything. That terrified her. "I don't want to think about that."

Varric chuckled. "Fair enough."


End file.
